Twisted Perfection

off.
    I was also afraid she might argue with me and all it was going to take to get me to snap was one little pleading look from her. My cock was still throbbing painfully and the fact I knew she wasn’t wearing any damn panties and she was soaking wet from that orgasm I’d given her was only making me harder.
    Throwing her on my bed and fucking her until I had her screaming my name again and telling me that her tight little pussy was mine had been the only thing I could think about while I touched her.
    But then she’d gone off in my lap and I knew this was my moment to prove to me and her that I could be selfless. Tonight had been about her. Not what she could do for me but just about her pleasure. I didn’t want this relationship to be built on sex. There was more there with Della. I liked being around her. I wanted to protect her. She had me so wrapped up I couldn’t think clearly.
    Taking her back to Tripp’s motherfucking condo was going to kill me. I didn’t want her sleeping there with him in the next room but I couldn’t exactly move her into my place either. That was moving way too fast and a girl like Della would run. I didn’t want her to run. I’d chase her ass down if she tried but I still didn’t want her to try. I wanted her to stay because she wanted to be with me.
    Being the kind of guy a girl stayed for was harder than I thought.
    “Did I do something wrong?” Della asked, breaking into my thoughts. I was already pulling up to Tripp’s condo. I’d been so torn about what to say to her that I hadn’t said anything. Shit. She was worried. I parked the truck and looked over at her. The frown creasing her forehead bothered me. I didn’t mean to make her frown.
    I reached over and soothed the puckered skin with my thumb. “No, not at all. You were perfect.”
    Her frown didn’t go away. She wasn’t buying it. I should have explained this to her. I just couldn’t find the right words.
    “Okay. If you’re sure,” she said slowly and reached for the door handle.
    “Wait, I got it. I’ll walk you to the door.” I said, jerking my door open and going around to open her door. She watched me still frowning with a confused look on her face. It was adorable. I took her hands and helped her down. My eyes zeroed in on the very visible wet spot on the crotch of her shorts. Glancing around I looked for Tripp’s Harley and found it sitting over by Della’s car. Hell no. He wasn’t seeing this. Evidence of her wet pussy was for my eyes only. Reaching into the truck I grabbed a hoodie out of the backseat.
    “Wear this,” I said, pulling it over her head before she could protest or even ask why. She obediently put her hands into the arms and it fell to the middle of her thighs. Completely covering her and her shorts. I let out a sigh of relief.
    “Why am I wearing your sweatshirt?” she asked, studying me like she thought I might be going crazy.
    I slipped my hand around her waist and pulled her closer to me then lowered my head until my mouth was at her ear. “Tripp’s home and that sweet little wet spot on those shorts of yours are for no one’s eyes but mine. When you get inside go change into something loose and baggy. And for all that’s holy, please wear panties and a bra.”
    Della nodded her head and I let her go and stepped back. She smelled too good. Seeing her dwarfed in my hoodie wasn’t helping. It was making my swollen dick even worse. “Go on inside. I need to stay here. If I go to the door I won’t be able to leave.”
    She stuck her hands into the front pockets of the hoodie. “Okay. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she stammered then turned and walked to the condo. I waited until she was safely inside before I got back in my truck and left. I should have walked her to the door but I knew seeing her in Tripp’s apartment would bring out the caveman in me even more and I would follow her inside and go lock us both in her room. This had been the only way to let her go.
    It was time I went and dealt with my dad.

    ***

    My mother met me at the door with a frown. She didn’t ask how I was doing or even attempt small talk. She just pointed down the hall and said, “Your dad’s in his office.” Then she walked away without another word.
    Most of my life my mother was only affectionate if I was doing exactly what she wanted me to. Whenever I failed or displeased her, she let me know exactly how she felt about me. I should be over it by now. I was a